


Diplomatic Relations

by ScoutFeather



Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: Age Difference, F/M, Porn, Prostitution, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 03:05:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19076200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScoutFeather/pseuds/ScoutFeather
Summary: At the tender age of seven, Princesss Isabella was finally given what she wanted: responsibility. To do her part for the Kingdom, Isabella's duty is to look after certain important guests that come and go through the castle in order to win their favour, in ways only a girl can.





	Diplomatic Relations

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Diplomatic Relations](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/487687) by Scout Feather. 



The soft patter of tiny feet on stone echoed through the ancient palace as the young girl they belonged to, a small and lively Princess, contemplated how much she'd rather be in bed at this hour. Were it not for her parents, she would be wrapped up in her cozy blankets, enveloped with the warmth and security that her bedroom brought her.

Duty and responsibility were big things to Isabella. She'd been told, six months ago and barely a day shy of her seventh birthday, how important it was that she does her part for the Kingdom. After all, she'd been asking her parents for ages about being able to help out. Why shouldn't she play her own part? Her parents had obliged her with a special task that only she could perform. A task so important that it wasn't entrusted to any servant or a guard. Not even her parents could do it.

Look after the distinguished guests: that was her job. It sounded so simple when her mother had first described it to her, yet the idea of being given a task so important that the entire kingdom might depend on it filled young Isabella with pride. In reality, her job was a lot harder than she'd ever expected it to be. 

Her first time had been difficult, despite plenty of preparation and time. It had hurt plenty and her charge hadn't exactly been gentle with her. She derived no pleasure from it, afterward curling up against his side and sobbing quietly so he wouldn't hear. In the end, her responsibility, a diplomatic envoy from a faraway place, had been so impressed with her that he agreed to all of the terms of negotiations so generously that the Kingdom had benefited immensely. Her parents showered her with praise, and she'd been rewarded with a new swing set in the palace gardens she'd been asking for.

The second time was far easier. She'd expected the worst and it only hurt for a while, and even then not nearly to the degree it had before. He had been an envoy from the Middle East making a routine visit to check up on trade routes; Isabella had done her job so efficiently he barely left his room the entire stay. He had not only been far easier on her but also made sure she was equally entertained. She had fond memories of snuggling up against him many times after he would finish, listening to him talk in great detail of his homeland. Several weeks after he'd left, a shipment of sweets arrived that was large enough to fill an entire pantry; Isabella had had toothaches for a long time after that.

Each time spent doing her duty went similar to that. Some were affectionate and sweet--always Isabella's favourites, she would spend extra time with them during their visits and enjoyed the gifts they showered her with--and others were sometimes rough and didn't care for her comfort, though none ever hurt like the first time, so she had no problem toughing them out.

Truthfully, it didn't matter how they treated her. Isabella was proud of her responsibilities to the Kingdom and was filled with resolve. That was why she was currently walking down an empty hall and approaching a large wooden door this late at night, instead of being in bed. The sound of feet echoing through the guest wing halted, and she knocked a few times before slipping inside, making sure no one had seen her enter.

The curtains were drawn shut as Isabella walked inside the large room, leaving it to be lit only by the flickering light of the fireplace and a candle on the writing desk that was flush against the wall, just under a window. In the middle of the room was an enormous four-post bed, where a burly man was hunched over, gazing into the fire. He glanced at Isabella as she entered and shut the door, grumbling a short greeting as she made her way to the bed and clambered up the side. He turned to look at her, eyes taking in her full form, from her curly blonde hair to her flush cheeks and the set of pink-footed pyjamas with purple accents and assorted patterned designs that resembled something akin to a Princess theme. From what she recalled, a close friend of her Aunt had made it for her, but she couldn't remember

The man seemed to approve of what he saw, cracking a smile and motioning for her to come closer. When she did, he leaned over and touched her back carefully, feeling the soft fabric rub against his fingertips.

"I've been waiting for you, little miss." He spoke, his voice not unlike the sound of gravel churning. Now that she had a good look at him in the light of the fire, Isabella could see that his other hand was between his legs, touching a thick member that glistened in the light, his trousers tugged down below his waist.

"Sorry sir. I got here as fast as I could." Was her quick response. He simply grunted in reply and picked her up, smoothly placing her down between his legs so that his member was resting against her back, smearing its juices into her precious clothing. She wanted to protest but knew better of it. Besides, it would probably wash out, right?

Once he had her in his lap, his hands were free to roam all over her body. He started from her shoulders and made their way down, along her sides and tracing her curves; he touched between her legs, carefully and only briefly, before bringing them back up, hands gripping the buttons that ran along her stomach. One by one, he began undoing them.

"So tell me, sweetheart." He whispered into her ear, his breath was hot and smelled faintly of alcohol. "How old are you? Are you in school yet?" He was three buttons down, taking his slow, sweet time to undress her.

"I'm seven and a half, mister." Isabella spoke slowly, watching as his hands worked down. "I have a private tutor who teaches me my lessons. Mostly math right now, but also reading and writing. He says I'm doing pretty well." The fourth button came undone, and he was halfway. The top of her pyjamas fell loosely open, revealing her bare, flat chest and small pink nipples. He breathed down her neck as he gazed over her, one of his hands snaking inward and into her clothing.

"Tell me about what you did in school today." He breathed, a faint whisper easily missed. "Do you have playmates? Must be lonely being the only girl in class." Isabella took a deep breath, feeling it catch in her throat as those coarse fingers dug their way under her clothing, rubbing her chest in slow circles and making their way lower, slipping under her panties. He wasn't trying to hide how hard he was, occasionally grinding his manhood against her bottom.

"We practiced, um, some math work and adding numbers. I'm not good at subtracting. I play with a girl from down the street sometimes. Mostly tag and h--Aah!" She gasped suddenly, losing herself mid-sentence as his fingers hit their mark, cupping her small mound and pushing against it and grinding it against her body.

"No, keep telling me about her. Do you have slumber parties? Playdates?" He spread her labia apart, exposing her pink flesh underneath, even though it couldn't be seen through her nightwear. He pressed against her opening with a finger, digging in just slightly and touching a small nub, her clitoris. Isabella jolted and let out a moan.

"Ahhhng! W-we have lots of sleepovers. We like to build pillow forts a-and..." Her eyes shut as he rubbed over that spot again, causing her to hump her hips forward, pressing herself against his expert fingers, and as a result, her sweet spot. Her voice trailed off to incomprehensible mumblings and groaning. Her body started to quiver.

"There's a good girl..." the perverted grown-up whispered into her ear. "You like having my hand down there, don't you? No need to be quiet in here." His fingers found a rhythmic circular motion, swapping between massaging her mound to digging his finger between her petals. The result was a panting Isabella slumped back against him, eyes closed and legs spread. Her tongue hung from her mouth as she made the occasional moaning sound.

Her flower had started to become damp, gradually leaking juices all over his hand and eventually her thighs, which drizzled down and began to leave a wet spot in her panties right in the crotch. She barely had time to think about them being ruined before another sharp pang of pleasure shot through her, and, as if involuntarily, her body thrust against his arm.

"C-can't take it...m-much longer!" Isabella managed to breathe out between sharp squeals and moans. "A-ah! Oh gosh! Oh gosh, yes!" The little girl was gyrating her body on overdrive, jerking in rapid motions as the heat in her stomach that had been building since the beginning finally hit overdrive. She hissed out a series of low grunts while she rode it out, leaving juices all over her nethers. For a little girl, she was quite the squirter!

The Guest sat back and gave her a short moment to catch her breath, marvelling at how delightful that had been to watch. Before tonight, he wasn't even aware girls of her age could even orgasm like that, but he had been wrong before, and this was one of those times it paid to be so. 

While Isabella leaned into his chest he reached around with a sticky hand and finished unbuttoning her nightwear the rest of the way, stripping it off of her before she had a chance to protest. It was a cold night and she immediately became conscious of this fact but did not have to worry about it for long. Her panties went in a similar fashion, being tugged down her legs and down to her feet.

Taking charge and leaving no question of dominance, The Guest flipped Isabella onto her stomach, facing away from the end of the bed. She lazily sprawled out, spreading her legs and putting her chin on the comforters, watching as he climbed off of the bed and behind her. He took his time walking around the bed, admiring the view of her red and puffy pussy, exposed now that she no longer was protected by clothing

He gave it a simple lick with his tongue to get a taste for her, but no more. He had the main course on his mind, and with that, climbed onto the bed, gripped his hands around her barrel, and prodded his large cock in the direction of her pussy. Isabella quivered and shook in anticipation: she hated this part, as the first intrusion always felt the worst.

As he found his mark, he gripped her tightly and pushed himself in. Fortunately for her, he was conscious of her comfort and took his time, sinking in inch after inch, but not without hesitating to let her get used to him. He was most certainly one of the thicker ones she had ever taken.

As expected, Isabella felt a hard discomfort at first. She gritted her teeth and balled up handfuls of comforters to help make it through the initial pain. She even tried biting into the covers, as well. She'd learned long ago that biting into one's own hand only left marks and hurt more afterward. What was the good in that?

Thankfully, it didn't take long, due in part to the prior lubrication, a few globs of spit the Guest had given her, and his unending patience. A hand stroked her back in a manner that struck her as surprisingly affectionate. She basked in that momentary comfort before he leaned away and began violating her once again.

Now that she was sufficiently accustomed to his girth, stretched enough that it didn't hurt, he began humping her sore cunny, his hips moving into her with reckless abandon. He no longer cared for whether she'd be able to feel pleasure from the senseless rutting or not. 

He bellowed a lustful growl and gripped her hair with a hand, giving a firm tug. Isabella let out a yelp and jerked backward instinctively, only for him to jam his cock deeper into her girlhood, further than it ever had before. A groan escaped his throat, and he shut his eyes to allow himself to get lost in the pleasure.

Moments passed, but it felt like forever for Isabella. She didn't altogether hate it. If he wasn't so intent of fucking her as rough as he was, she would probably enjoy it more, but since his hefty sack was now slapping repeatedly against her bottom, it didn't look like that would happen

"Aaggggh!" He breathed between lustful panting, his slow, thorough plunging into her naughty place causing his member to get stuck near the end because of her agonizingly tight grip. He alternated to short, shallow thrusts to allow more speed, feeling his member start to throb.

Isabella braced herself, recognizing this behaviour as nearing his orgasm. She lifted her rear for him as best as she could to allow his more leverage and speed in his thrusts as he came crashing down against her, the force of his dick rocking her small body against the bed. With a lust-filled bellow, his cock buried itself deeper inside of her and began shooting spurt after spurt of thick, hot seed straight into her womb. Her belly had no choice but to bloat from the volume, eventually seeping around the meat shaft lodged inside of her and dripping onto the bed.

Several spurts of cum and exhausted gulps of air later, and The Guest collapsed over the bed, pulling the messy and thoroughly fucked-silly Isabella against his chest. She cuddled into his chest eagerly, seeking his warmth and affection, to which he obliged, pressing his lips to her head to give her a few kisses. He pulled his cum-soaked pole out of her with a 'pop' and heaved a satisfied sigh, his eyelids feeling heavy.

"Mmph. Best I've had in a while, missy. So long as I can get some of that again, your parents can have their deal. This is far better." He gruffly mumbled.

It took all of her might, but Isabella managed to force herself awake, sliding out of the bed and back down the hall. She was significantly messy, her skin sticky in splotches thanks to his dried cum, her hair sticking out in all directions, and her pyjamas a drenched mess. Underneath, her flower was slightly gaping and dripping.

Back at her room, she was met with a servant who ran her a warm bath and cleaned her up without a word, sworn to never speak of these late-night baths to anyone. The servant helped Isabella into a fresh pair of pyjamas, tucked her into her own bed and under her covers. At Isabella's begs, she even gave her a kiss on the forehead goodnight, leaving the sweet, innocent Princess to sleep soundly, content that she had done her duty to the Kingdom.

End


End file.
